


Visions de Vous

by Ghostwriter (Zoya_Zalan)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fantasy, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 19:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya_Zalan/pseuds/Ghostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom Paris has thirty days in Solitary to ponder what it was he thought he saw in the depths of his captain's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visions de Vous

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** : Paramount owns all things Voyager. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> **Notes** : This story was inspired by the episode _Thirty Days_.
> 
> Written in January 1999.

~ * ~ * ~

I'd seen it in her eyes for the first time that day in the briefing room, something that had been carefully hidden behind all the Starfleet regulations and protocol. She'd dressed me down to within an inch of my dignity while I lost myself in those incredible blues. I'd listened to her tone of voice, heard the disappointment and anger, and I'd passionately expressed my reasons for disobeying orders. But I couldn't seem to escape those eyes... and what a different story they appeared to be telling me.

At first I thought I was seeing things, anger laced with a spark of desire? Of all the things to imagine while getting your ass chewed out by a superior officer, it had to be desire. After she dismissed me, I let the thought go. I had other things on my mind. But later, after I really made a mess of things and found myself in front of her once more — being demoted, no less — I seemed to imagine the very same thing in her eyes as I listened to her announce my punishment.

I'd almost laughed at myself as they escorted me to the Brig. Kathryn Janeway, Ms. Straight-laced, by-the-book starship captain, desiring Tom Paris, ex-convict, Starfleet and Maquis failure with a penchant for not following anybody's rules but his own? The idea was so absurd that it didn't even warrant a second thought. But when you've got thirty days on your hands with no place to go and nothing to do, even absurdity is something you look forward to exploring in depth.

The whole situation just made me sick. I'd gone and done something inappropriate; nothing unusual there. I'd been in trouble before; hell, I'd made it an art form, but this time felt different. I'd let down someone whose approval actually meant something to me. I would do it all over again if given the chance — I believed strongly enough in the cause, but I doubt the repercussions would bother me any less. I'd disappointed her... deeply. Dealing with that was going to take awhile.

Harry came to see me. B'Elanna didn't. I realize the captain was being lenient in letting Harry visit, but if B'Elanna had wanted to see me, she could have made a convincing enough argument. The distance between us had grown; we were no longer within range of each other. At the time, I wasn't feeling too good about myself, so I didn't give the subject much more than a passing thought. Strangely enough, I spent most of my time dictating a letter to my dad, of all things, and thinking about what I thought I'd seen flickering in the depths of Kathryn Janeway's eyes.

I'd always found my commanding officer attractive; there was no doubt about that. But, she was out of my league... way past my reach. I'd flirted with her a bit in the beginning — a way for me to test the boundaries and gauge who it was I'd be answering to for the next few weeks. Nobody'd had a clue that a few weeks would turn into years, possibly even a lifetime. She'd responded to my innuendo as any warm-blooded female would, with knowing looks and a smile carefully kept in check. She'd remained professional, through and through. She was flattered, I could tell, but nothing more. So, what the hell had I seen both those times? I spent more time trying to convince myself that I really had been seeing things than actually admitting the Captain of _Voyager_ might want me. After all, how could I know for sure? Those flashes of desire I'd witnessed could have easily been the product of my imagination, ignited under the stress of the situation. But, eventually, the loneliness got to me through the long hours of silence and frustration. Visions appeared behind closed eyes that would have gotten my rank stripped away altogether had she seen them herself. There were times when I'd even thought I could smell her skin they'd seemed so real. Life became considerably more bearable from that point on.

Once I was released from solitary, my first instinct was to forget the scenarios I'd dreamed up during the long hours by myself. It wasn't easy. They'd sustained me for too long to simply let go. I went back to my quarters where I found a set of orders waiting on my terminal. My first assignment was to help Neelix fix and reorganize the organic containment units in Cargo Bay Two. I wasn't scheduled to report to the captain until 0700 the next morning. How convenient. As annoying as the job turned out to be, it was much better than daydreaming the hours away. That evening, I ordered up the largest steak dinner I could find on the replicator menu and took a long shower to clear the cobwebs. I was starting to feel human again. B'Elanna hadn't tried to contact me yet. I doubted she would, and at that point, I really didn't care.

The last thing I remember was getting up to head for bed. That's not where I wound up, though. It was as if my legs had developed a mind of their own. My journey through the corridors was done almost in a daze. I'd stopped and touched the door chime to the captain's quarters before I even realized what I was doing... and then the door slid open. She stood there, looking at me with such an odd expression. I was probably the last person she'd expected to see. My voice failed.

After a few moments of strained silence, she stepped aside, allowing me entry. Those eyes followed my every move as I walked in and stopped in the middle of the room. I stared out the view port, avoiding eye contact. She hadn't said a word. The soft scent of her perfume invaded my senses, stirring all the provocative visions I'd indulged in during my long hours alone. After a moment's hesitation, I turned back to her, unable to keep those visions from my eyes. She saw them, her own eyes burning with anger as she stared back at me. How I could have misjudged the spark I'd seen in their depths, I don't know; perhaps I'd just spent too much time alone.

I tried to refocus myself and, hopefully, avoid any further insubordination, but before I could think further, she'd closed the short distance between us.

"Do you have any idea what it took for me to put you in there?" she asked bitterly, her voice disrupting the stillness of the room. I remained silent, not knowing what the hell to do or say. I'd thought for sure she was angry with me, yet I was absolutely stunned to see tears forming in her eyes. Her face was alive with emotions I'd never seen before... and some I had.

This time, I had no doubts.

Once again, I moved as if in a daze, stepping toward her slowly. She began backing away from me with the same measured steps. I had no clue what I was doing; I was acting on instinct alone. Her eyes shone in the starlight, but I didn't see any fear there. Kathryn Janeway wasn't afraid of anyone or anything. She stared at me, tears threatening to fall, as she backed into the wall behind her. I didn't stop until I was close enough to feel her breath against my skin. My heart pounded through the insane thoughts that crossed long forgotten corners of my mind. I was numb with anticipation, my body screaming at me to take action, but I needed a sign, something that told me I wasn't dreaming, that this was very, very real. I didn't have to wait long... her eyes lowered momentarily to my lips before she met my steady gaze once more.

A part of me died at that moment...

...and another was born.

I never hesitated as I pressed her firmly into the wall, my lips covering hers passionately. At first I thought she was struggling to push me away, a dark thought that made me pause for a split second. I've done plenty of questionable things in my life, but forcing a woman had never been one of them, and I certainly wasn't about to start now. I eased back a bit only to find her hanging on to me, pulling me closer, a palpable sense of desperation in her touch. I responded eagerly, pulling her tiny form up into my arms, and boldly plunging my tongue past her lips. One of my hands slid between us, underneath her robe and gown. A surprised sound caught in her throat, but she didn't object as my fingers sought out swollen flesh beneath damp layers of fabric. It was a very strange moment, hovering somewhere between reality and oblivion, where my dreams fused together in a single moment of intense clarity and shameless desire for the woman in my arms.

I loved her then, with every ounce of passion I had. Hell, I had no idea whether this was what she wanted or needed... I just kept giving, touching and stroking, holding her close, supporting her like I knew no one else had in the last five years. I could hear her ragged breathing, so loud in my ears. Our lips never parted, even when she shifted her weight to bring one of her own hands down to where mine was caressing her soft wetness. She pressed my fingers against her, guiding them harder and faster. Her other arm tightened around my shoulder as a soft, urgent whimper vibrated through our kiss. Within seconds, her body began writhing, her lower back thumping noisily against the wall as she reached her peak. She tore her mouth from mine as she struggled for breath, but she didn't make a sound until I slid one of my fingers deep inside her. I watched in wonder as her beautiful face twisted into a picture of extreme ecstasy, eyes tightly closed, tears sliding freely down her cheeks, and her lips parting to emit a sound so impassioned that it took my breath away. She rode the waves of her release against my hand, inner muscles squeezing my finger gently until she finally went limp in my arms.

I held her close as she buried her face against my shoulder with a long, shuddering breath. There was silence then for a few minutes, until her soft whisper floated to my ears. "Damn you, Tom Paris..."

Chuckling into her ear, I responded, "Too late." I felt her smile against the skin of my neck, her lips kissing me gently. My legs suddenly felt very weak, prompting me to lower us until we were both sitting on the floor, still embracing tightly. Her hands felt like silk sliding across my back, warm and comforting. I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to cry at that moment, but I held it back.

She pulled her head up to look at my face, her own still flushed from her experience. "This shouldn't have happened," she whispered to me. I could see she was fighting to keep herself in check, as well.

"But it did, Kathryn," It was the first time I'd ever said her name out loud, and it rolled off my tongue like honey, sending shivers down my spine. I was stunned by what I saw in her eyes — all those years of loneliness and rigid protocols, the weight of all our lives resting on her fragile-looking shoulders, it was all there for me to see. She raised one of her hands to my face and rested it against my cheek.

"You mean so much to me, Tom." The words were lost as her throat tightened with emotion.

"Forget about regulations," I began, passion coloring my words. "Forget about the crew and what they would think... and forget about tomorrow. Let's just live today. Let's just... live."

My vision was blurred as she sought out my lips with her own, the kiss soft and tender this time, filled with much more than the desperate pleas of two tortured souls. When we finally pulled apart, she lifted herself from my arms, pulling me up after her. Once more, the world spun around me as if I was in a daze, like maybe this was just one of those fantasies I'd so carefully memorized in the solitude of my cell, and my imagination was simply working overtime. Perhaps I was even still dreaming when I woke with her in my arms the next morning, our bodies still entwined, and the scent of our love permeating the air... but somehow, I don't think so.

Life moves on, strange as it is. I could be bitching over my demotion; I could be bitching about a lot of things, for that matter. But this time, I think I'll just keep my mouth shut. What's happened here is too special to me. For once, I feel like one of the lucky ones.

~ * ~ finis ~ * ~

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd Place  
> Best Janeway/Paris category  
> 1999 ASCEM Golden Orgasms Award


End file.
